Conundrum
by elm87
Summary: A new lodger moves into 221c. But can Sherlock deduce who she really is? Sadly I don't own any characters except Emily :(
1. New Lodger

**'**Boys, you're getting a new neighbour!'

Mrs Hudson appeared up the stairs into the living room where John and Sherlock sat.

'Oh? Someone moving into 221c?' John looked up from his paper as he spoke. Sherlock, as usual, appeared not to hear her.

Mrs Hudson was her usual bubbly self, 'Yes, finally got round to fixing the damp and got it rented out. Lovely girl, moving in tomorrow. Emily she's called.'

'A girl?' John's ear's pricked up at this.

'John, Mrs Hudson won't want to find a new lodger within a week, so please don't even imagine that you can impress this new woman.' Sherlock didn't even move when he spoke.

John's incredulous face turned to Sherlock, 'I..'

'Oh boy's, play nice. And make her feel welcome!' With that, Mrs Hudson walked through to the kitchen and started clearing the sink. 'You know, I'm still not your housekeeper dears?'

* * *

Emily stood and smiled at her new front door before she inserted the key in the lock and swung it open. She'd finally made it to London. Turning round she hoisted the backpack over her shoulder and grabbed the suitcase, dumping them in the living space. Retracing her steps she lifted the two smallish boxes from the hall and brought them into the flat as well. In those four pieces of luggage, was the entirety of her belongs that she had brought to London. Smiling to herself, I travel light, she thought.

Mrs Hudson had shown her round the flat the other day, but this time Emily took her time exploring. The living room cum kitchen was compact but with more than enough space for one person. Mrs Hudson had told her about the damp that had previously been there and that it had been sorted. The kitchen area was retiled, the walls with plain white splash backs and the floor with large grey granite style tiles. New cupboards had been added with white doors and a faux granite worktop. A new cooker and fridge freezer had been installed and a small pine table and 2 chairs sat in the corner.

Turning to look at the living room, Emily took in the grey two seater sofa, sure she had seen one similar in Ikea. In one corner was a matching grey armchair while in the other was a small tv table. Emily didn't have a TV, she was never in enough to watch it. Instead she had a small CD player which allowed her to listen to the radio or music from her Ipod and that was fine with her. Thinking of this, Emily reached into one of the boxes and lifted out the CD player. Plugging it into the corner and setting it on the table, she slotted her Ipod into the dock and started her Favourites play list. Sounds of Eagle Eyed Cherry's Save Tonight swam around her. Completing the room was a waist height bookcase, which she knew would be filled soon with all the books she planned to pick up from the markets and second hand bookshops.

Leaving the living room, Emily carried her back pack and suitcase through to the small double bedroom. It was lightly furnished with a metal double bed, pine wardrobe with mirrored door, a pine bedside table and a matching chest of drawers. The mattress was bare on the bed and Emily put bedclothes and a duvet set onto her mental shopping list. Placing the bags onto the bed, she opened them and started unpacking. She didn't have much, never felt the need to have more clothes than were required. Within five minutes, everything was placed into the drawers or wardrobe. A small alarm clock was placed on the bedside table along with a picture of Emily with two other girls smiling at the camera.

Grabbing her cosmetics bag, she walked into the bathroom, a toilet, shower cubicle and hand basin greeted her. The entire bathroom was white, although stark, it was clean and Emily knew she could brighten it up with some towels and colourful bottles of shampoo. Quickly emptying her bag of her shower gel, hairbrush and other essentials, she sighed contentedly.

She'd always loved London since visiting several times since she was a young girl. The sights, sounds, the fast pace always intrigued her. The last time she had visited, with a group on friends on a hen weekend, she had made up her mind she wanted to live there and feel the excitement everyday. Of course she knew it wouldn't always be as great as she thought, but at least she wouldn't regret never having done it.

Emily decided it would be a good time, before it got dark, to explore some of the streets around her and also pick up some essentials and food. She grabbed her new keys, made sure all the lights were out and walked out of the flat.

* * *

**So that's chapter one, just a bit of OC introduction. I have a vague plan of what I want to do with this story, but how I get there may change over time. Whatever you're thinking, please let me know, all comments graciously accepted :)**


	2. Run Ins & Coffee

**Wow guys thanks for the favourites/follows/reviews. They make my day and put a wee smile on my face. Hope I do you all justice :)**

The alarm broke through Emily's dreams at 6am the next morning, a Monday. Although she had never been a great early riser, the thought of her new life spurred her into getting up within five minutes. After grabbing a quick shower without washing her hair, she swiftly dressed in her pants, sports bra, running leggings and hoody. After pulling her brown hair into a high ponytail, she added socks and trainers to the outfit.

After a breakfast of toast, jam, boiled egg and fruit juice, she brushed her teeth, grabbed some essentials for work and walked out the door.

'Oof!'

Emily collided with a mass. Looking up, she realised it was a guy. A rather cute guy actually. Short sandy hair, nice eyes, friendly smile, and rubbing his chest where she had bumped into him. She noticed another taller man standing behind him, watching them with an exasperated look on his face. Emily figured they must be the two men that lived upstairs. Mrs Hudson had mentioned them when she was showing Emily around.

'I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking, I'm Emily, Emily Turner.'

'Hi, John Watson, nice to meet you. You're the new lodger I take it? Oh, this is Sherlock Holmes.' He motioned to the man behind him.

'Of course it's the new lodger John. A woman coming out of 221C at 6.30am on a Monday morning. Who else could it possibly be?' The man rolled his eyes and sighed, 'Boring, I need to find out who has the black shirt.'

Emily was taken back by his words. 'Oh sorry, I'll get out of your way, I'm heading out to work anyway.'

John Watson gave her an apologetic look, 'What do you do, work at a gym?' He glanced down at her outfit.

'Oh come on John, obvious she's a dog walker. Sports clothing for the activity, Small plastic bags in her pocket along with a packet of dog treats. That brand isn't the healthiest for dogs by the way. You can see the bulge where her Ipod is strapped round her upper left arm and the headphones are tucked into her hood for now, drown out the sound of those animals barking. A spare lead poking out of her backpack and from the sounds of it a metal dish and bottle of water. There, dog walker. Now come on, we are busy.' And with that he bounded up the stairs.

Emily just stared open mouthed at the retreating figure of Sherlock Holmes. 'How..I Mean…What was that?'

John sighed deeply. 'Sorry, he's always like that, he can figure out who you are by looking at what you're wearing, holding, little clues that others would normally miss. Very smart, but a complete arse.' He smiled at her.

Emily smiled back, 'Ok, umm, well I really have to go. I suppose I'll see you around?'

'Yeah, definitely, in fact, maybe we could get a coffee sometime, introduce each other properly? Are you free anytime today?'

'Umm, I should be free about 11.30 for an hour, if that suits you? I'll be working near here, so I could call back for a bit.'

John smiled, 'Perfect, when you're back, just call on up. I'll see you then.'

'See you then.' With a smile, she gave him a small wave and walked out the main door.

Her mind turned back to Sherlock Holmes. What the hell was that? She was perplexed by what she had just witnessed. I mean, yes she had all the items he had listed on her person, but how could he figure out the dog treats? They were open and they gave off a faint smell, but who specialised in dog treat brands! But John seemed nice; she was looking forward to having a coffee with him. It would be good to have a friend here. Right now though, she had fifteen minutes to pick up three dogs.

* * *

At 11.40, Emily knocked on the door to 221B. She was slightly nervous of meeting Sherlock again, she wasn't sure she wanted him to do his thing on her again. It was a bit intimidating. John opened the door and smiled before his eyes widened slightly as he took her in.

'Wow, umm, you look a bit different from..umm..this morning. Come in, please. Sherlock's away out.'

Emily smiled. She did look a bit different. 'Thanks John.' She followed him up to the living room. She relaxed slightly when she heard Sherlock wouldn't be there.

'Take a seat, I'll get the coffee, milk, sugar?'

'Milk, no sugar please.'

'Coming up.' With one more sidelong look at her, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Emily looked around her, the room was definitely bigger than downstairs, but much more cluttered. Books and papers filled every surface. But it was cosy, she noticed small things that made her grin, a yellow smiley face painted on the wall, a union jack cushion on one of the chairs, and a..hang on..was that a skull on the mantelpiece? Shaking her head, she took a seat in the chair opposite the one with the cushion.

John came back into the room carrying two cups and a plate of biscuits and set them down on the table. He handed her one of the cups.

'Thanks.' She took it from him.

'No problem, so do you normally go dog walking in a skirt and heels?' John asked as he sat in the seat opposite her.

Emily grinned. She did look a bit different from when he had seen her this morning. Compared to the sporty look from earlier, she was now wearing a pencil skirt, purple blouse and black heels. He shoulder length brown hair had been straightened and fell loosely round her oval face.

'Ah, that was my morning shift, I'm a dog walker from seven to eight every weekday morning. The I came home and changed for my shift as a receptionist in an estate agents, hence the outfit you see now.'

'Wow, two different jobs, must be tough having to get up that early every morning no matter what the weather.'

'Well, it's really my first day, I only got to London last week and stayed in a hotel for a couple of days. I'd already been looking out for places to rent and jobs, so when I got to London, I just followed them all up, made a few appointments etc. Though, it's not just two jobs.' Emily giggled. Seeing the puzzled look on John's face, she continued, 'I could never settle into just one job forty hours a week, so at home I temped. When I decided to move to London, I looked for part-time jobs that I could do together. I am currently a dog-walker, receptionist, interior designer and nanny.'

As she finished, she glanced down at her cup and blushed, it was unusual for her to divulge so much to someone who was practically a stranger.

'Busy woman! You probably despair at this room being an interior designer. How do you fit it all in?'

'I managed to negotiate my hours with all the jobs to work round each other. So the dog walking in the morning, then reception work Mondays to Wednesdays and Interior Design on Thursdays and Fridays until three. After that I'll be looking after a little girl every day when she finishes school until her parents get home. I'm hoping to head back home for the weekends though.'

'Where is home?'

'I'm from Dorset, Sturminster Newtown, small village, everyone knows each other and everything about them.' She laughed.

And why London? You could have done all that at home surely?'

'I love London, I've visited loads since I was little and I just love the hustle and bustle. There's something magical about it.'

John smiled at that, 'I'd agree, there's a quality just draws you to it.'

'So enough about me, who is John Watson?'

Emily wasn't used to talking about herself, getting off the subject made her more comfortable. For the next half an hour or so, John told her about being an army doctor and how leaving for war torn countries had made things difficult with his sister. He explained how he couldn't have lived anywhere else when he came back and how he came to live with Sherlock.

'He's…I don't even know what to try and describe him as. Methodical?' Emily grasped at a word.

'Haha that's one word for him!' John laughed. 'He calls himself a consulting detective, the only one in the world. The police come to him for help when it's strange case. What he does though is amazing…really, really amazing. Though Sherlock himself, well, it took a bit of getting used to living with someone who keeps body parts in the fridge and played the violin at three in the morning.'

'But, that thing he does, figures people out just by looking at them, how does he do it?'

'It's hard to describe, he notices small things, tan lines, the exact clothes size you are, as he says on his website, he can tell an airline pilot by his thumb.'

'He has a website?' Emily asked, surprised.

'Yeah, where he lists some of the cases he's solved and how he 'deduced' it.'

John and Emily looked at each other before both falling into giggles.

'I'll have to meet him properly, rather than rushing past each other out the door.' Emily said.

'I warn you, he's not a great one for social interaction, it's more than likely he'll annoy you with his deductions, or tell you to shut up.' John grinned.

Emily decided she really needed to get back to work, so she thanked John for the coffee and said her goodbyes, promising that she would call up again soon. She was glad she had made a friend so quickly, and a handsome one at that! She wasn't so sure how keen she was for Sherlock to 'deduce' her life though. There were things she didn't want people to know, and if he was as good as John said, she was going to have to work hard to keep things under wraps.

* * *

**I had originally planned for this chapter to go a bit further, with a bit more Sherlock, but the coffee between John and Emily took a bit longer than I thought. I hope you don't mind the slow start. Anyway Emily thinks John is cute, do you think he feels the same? And what do you think about Emily's work life? I have a plan in mind, though whether it will go the way you think (or I think for that matter!)...you'll have to wait and see :)**

**Please review, they make my day!**


	3. Settling in for a Deduction

'Oh Hello Emily dear, how are you settling in?'

It was Friday night and Emily had just arrived home from minding Sophia. Mrs Hudson was coming out of her flat with an armful of clothes.

'Great Mrs Hudson, thanks for letting me move in, the flat is so cosy, I love it already! Can I give you a hand with those?' Emily gestured towards the clothes Mrs Hudson held.

'Oh would you be a love and take these up to the boys? With my hip, the stairs can be a bit of a hassle. It's a couple of Sherlock's shirts that needed stitching. All that running about, getting tears in them, if I didn't help sew them up, they'd spend a fortune on new ones!'

Emily laughed, 'Of course, give them here, I'll run them up. Is John in do you know?'

'Oh I think I heard him say he was going out to do a bit of shopping. Sherlock should be in though. Thank you so much dear.'

Mrs Hudson went back into her flat and closed the door. Emily sighed, she supposed she would have had to get this over with at some point, talking to Sherlock. She walked up the stairs with the shirts.

Walking into the living room, she was startled by the sound of a bang in the kitchen.

'Hello?'

Nothing.

'Sherlock? It's Emily, Mrs Hudson asked me to drop your shirts up.'

Sherlock walked out of the kitchen covered in purple dust wearing a pair of safety glasses. He walked right past her to the open laptop on the desk and started typing.

'I'll just put them here shall I?' Emily set the shirts on the sofa. Sherlock was still typing on the laptop. Frowning, she turned to walk out. 'Ok, bye!'

'Can I borrow your mobile.'

Emily turned round, Sherlock was still looking at the laptop.

'Im sorry, my mobile?'

'Yes, your mobile, mine is in the kitchen and I need to send a text.'

'Umm, can you not just get up and go get it?'

Sherlock ignored her. She walked into the kitchen and started at the sight of the kitchen covered in purple dust. Spotting the mobile on the worktop, she picked it up and wiped some of the dust off it. She walked back into the living room and held the mobile out to Sherlock. He held out his hand, flat palm facing upwards, still not looking at her. Frowning again she placed the mobile in his hand.

'Lazy much?' She shook her head and turned to walk out.

'You're not John.'

Turning round again, Emily look at Sherlock incredulously. He was finally looking at her with a slight perplexed look on his face.

'Seriously!' Emily asked with a shocked laugh. 'What gave it away, was it the long hair or the feminine voice? I thought John said you were supposed to be smart.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly as they skipped over her, taking everything in. Emily took a step back, not sure that she liked it.

'You're just back from look after a six year old girl called Sophia. Who apparently likes pink ponies and doctor who. She gave you a make-over which you wiped away before leaving the house. You are going to go back to your flat and finish drinking the bottle of…rose wine that you started last night before you fell asleep on the sofa with your music playing. Smart enough for you?' Sherlock turned back to the laptop.

'Right, seriously, how'd you work that out now?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'Boring, and so easy. You have two stickers still attached to your top, one with a pink pony and one with a police box. You have a smudge of makeup just below your ear that you missed while wiping the rest off. As for the wine, the slight bags under your bloodshot eyes show the effects of drinking, your posture shows you didn't sleep in a bed and I heard your music through the walls when I came in late last night.'

Emily stared at him with her mouth open. Would she ever get used to that? 'And how did you know it was a six year old called Sophia and that it was rose wine? Though I suppose John told you about Sophia.'

'If John mentioned your work, I'm positive I was doing something more productive with my time than listening to him gossiping about you. You did however spill something on the girl's homework and put your hand on the damp page. There is a mirror image of 'Sophia Kells, Age 6' imprinted on your hand where the ink has smudged off. As for the wine, I found the receipt outside.'

Emily continued to stare. How in the world did he manage that. He had only looked at her for all of ten seconds before telling her all of that.

'Ok, it's kind of freaking me out how you do that. Tell me something else.'

'Something else?'

'Yea, deduce me, show off a bit, John says you like to do that.' She grinned.

'I don't show off!'

'Ok, ok, it's fine if you can't figure me out.' Emily knew from John's talk of him that Sherlock didn't like being told he wasn't as good as he was. 'I mean you can't know everything, and you certainly shouldn't be ashamed of not knowing the world rotates around the sun.' She bit her lip to stop from laughing.

'What! John told you that? I told him it's not important, I don't need to know that. Fine you want me to 'figure' you out? You have two jobs that involve children and animals, obviously you prefer working with them than other adults. Moving to London without having friends or family to move in with, you're running away from something back home. Which according to your accent is in Dorset. Could be you broke up with a boyfriend, but the looks you give to John mean you haven't been with anyone in a long time. So not a boyfriend, friends then, unlikely considering you keep a picture of them in a frame. That leaves family. No pictures of them and you're an only child, so you have fallen out with your mother or father and ran away to London. You haven't quite got used to the London style, you nails are too short and void of colour, as is your hair. You don't wear make-up as you feel you don't need to, you're comfortable with yourself. However after meeting John, you have taken to wearing perfume, which for some reason pleases him. That's enough for now I think.'

'Bloody hell.' Emily couldn't think of anything else to say at that moment.

'Did I get anything wrong.' Sherlock's question was more of a statement, implying he didn't think he did.

Emily shook her head to bring her out of the dazed state she was in, before a small smile flitted across her face. 'Oh only about half of it. And by the way how do you know about the picture of my friends?'

Sherlock looked up sharply. 'Half! How can I have got half wrong!'

'I'll tell you, when you tell me about the picture!'

'Fine, when you left your flat on the first morning when you literally ran into John, I saw it through your open door, there is a direct line of sight from there to your bedside table. Now tell me how I was wrong!'

'That's kinda creepy, the door was only open for a second. But ok, I don't have just two jobs, I have four, two of which deal with adults in an estate agents and an interior design studio. I did move to London without family and friends, but that was because I love London, wanted to do something different and the fast pace excites me, not because I'm running from something. You were right that I'm from Dorset, and that there was no boyfriend and I don't know if you're right about the apparent looks I give John. I am an only child, but I havent fallen out with my parents, they are alive and well and I text both of them regularly. I forgot to bring my pictures of them with me, though I do have some on my phone. Also if I was running away, then I wouldn't be planning on getting the ten thirty train tomorrow morning back down there to stay for the weekend would I!'

She glared triumphantly at him. Sherlock stood up and within a second was standing in front of her. He was taller than she first thought, and had to tilt her head to look up at him, refusing to break eye contact.

'Intriguing.' The word was like a whisper coming from his mouth. Emily had to strain to hear it.

'What is?' She asked.

Sherlock took a step back, looking her up and down.

'How can I not see it? There are no clues.' It seemed like he wasn't even talking to her anymore. He turned around, clasped his hands together and brought them up to his chin.

'Umm Sherlock, I'm going to go now. I left your shirts on the..'

'Who are you?' He spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders, his blue eyes staring into her green ones. Emily tensed.

'I…I..I'm Emily. What's wrong? Please let go!' She pushed his hands off her and took a step back.

'Well you've not been sent here to spy on us; your pupil dilation and tension are too real.'

'I have to go, tell John I said hi.'

With that Emily turned and practically ran out of the living room. At the bottom of the stairs she turned with her back against the wall breathing heavily. That had been… well weird! It wasn't like she thought he would hurt her, quite the opposite in fact. He just seemed frustrated. Frustrated about the fact he had got something wrong, which didn't make sense, everyone got things wrong. When he grabbed her and she was staring into those blue eyes, it was strange, mesmerising even. She let out a long breath. It had been a busy week, she just needed to relax.

She started as the front door opened. John came through carrying a Tesco bag. She left out another breathe. She was getting jumpy!

'Hi Em! What are you doing there?' John smiled as he realised who it was.

Emily liked the shortened version of her name, he had started using the second time they had coffee.

'Heya, I was just leaving some shirts upstairs that Mrs Hudson had fixed. Had an interesting experience with Sherlock though.'

'Ah! Still reeling?' He grinned apologetically.

'Just a bit, I know you warned me, but experiencing it first hand, that's something different!'

'Listen, do you fancy a drink? I know you're heading back home tomorrow, but we could grab a couple, doesn't have to be a late night.'

Emily smiled, 'Sounds good, ok, why don't you leave that shopping up and I'll go and change quickly, meet you back here in say, ten minutes?'

'Sounds like a plan. I'll see you shortly.'

John smiled at her as he headed on up the stairs. Emily turned and walked towards her flat. Looked like it was going to be a good night even with the shock of Sherlock!

**So Emily had a bit more interaction with Sherlock in this one. Is he a bit too much for her? Let me know what you think. I always find it hard to get Sherlock's character just right, and his deductions, hats off to the BBC writers! **


	4. Love & Friendship

**I'm sorry this has taken so long to update! Work has been busy and I wasn't sure I was loving the story enough to continue. But I have another couple of chapters written, so hopefully my muse won't desert me again! Enjoy :)**

'I can't believe you punched him!' Emily clutched her stomach as she tried to stop herself laughing.

John grinned, 'Well he did ask me to!'

They were sitting in a pub two streets away from Baker Street. Apparently John came here with his friend Mike occasionally. It was warm and cosy, and the drink was cheaper than most places in London. When Emily stopped laughing so hard, she took a sip of her cider. They had been sitting in the pub for a couple of hours, it seemed to be the place that people came before heading on somewhere else, so it was never too busy.

When they arrived, they had been sitting on opposite sides of the table. John had been a gentleman and given Emily the comfy seat along the wall, while he had taken the stool. However as a few more people had come in, he had offered it to the group sitting next to them and had taken up the space beside Emily. They sat half facing each other, both quite comfy in each others company as they people watched and told anecdotes about their lives. She had told him about what happened when she went upstairs and spoke the Sherlock. Although John assured her it was just Sherlock, he was also worried that she had been frightened by him. Emily assured him, she was fine, that it was just a surprise to her.

At some point John had placed his arm along the back of the bench. When Emily laughed and leaned back, her cheek kept brushing against his hand. She knew that sometimes she was doing it on purpose to see what John's reaction would be. So far he hadn't moved, instead smiling at her like he knew what she was doing. Emily knew she had drunk enough to lose a bit of her self-consciousness, but not too much that she wasn't fully aware of what she was doing. She had never been too comfortable around guys, always wondering what they thought of her. For some reason John put her at ease, and she was sure he fancied her as well.

'Do you want another one?' Emily nodded her head towards his nearly empty pint glass.

'Yea, that'd be great, same again just.' John smiled at her.

As they were seated in the corner, with a group of people on the other side of her, Emily had to squeeze past John to get out. He moved slightly to give her room round the table, but with a thought going through her head, Emily placed a hand on his knee as if balancing herself to stand up properly. As she did, she looked at him through her eyelashes and gently bit her bottom lip. God those women's magazines have a lot to answer for she thought! Though from John's reaction it seemed to be working. He had taken a slight intake of air and she could see a faint blush coming to his cheeks as she smiled at her.

'You ok?' He asked

'Yep, I'll be two ticks.'

She closed her eyes briefly as she walked away, wondering if he was watching her. As she got to the bar, she turned to look back, and he was indeed watching her. Smiling she turned back and ordered two more drinks before returning to the table. After setting the drinks on the table, and moving to her seat, John offered his hand to steady her as she sat down. They continued to talk about random topics for another ten minutes or so. Soon Emily looked at the clock on her phone. It told her it was 11pm.

'I didn't realise what time it was, eleven o'clock! I should probably be getting back soon, I'm up early!'

'Seriously?! That flew in! It's the good company.' John smiled. 'Finish up and I'll walk you back.'

They downed the rest of their drinks and John helped Emily put her coat on. They wandered amicably back to 221, the fresh night air brought a flush to both their cheeks. By the time they reached Baker Street, Emily had linked her arm with John's. As they got to the door, John got out his key, Emily had an idea.

'Do you fancy coming into mine for a quick cup of tea, clear our heads a bit?'

John smiled, 'Perfect. I'd love to.'

He opened the door and they made their way to 221c. When they got in, Emily threw her phone towards John and told him to choose some music while she put the kettle on. Surprising her, he picked the Cruel Intentions Soundtrack. He turned and sat down on the sofa.

'You've made it really nice in here, it's simple but cosy.' He said.

'I had a good base to work from. Mrs Hudson has it done up really well. I just need to get a couple more pictures up round the place and it'll be perfect.'

As the sounds of Coffee and TV filled the room, she finished making the tea, and brought the mugs in, handing one to John and sitting beside him. He put his mug down, and brought his hand up to play with Emily's hair, curling it round his finger. The shock made Emily put her own mug down; otherwise she was going to spill it.

'You're beautiful you know, inside as well, I've loved spending time with you this week.' John moved his hand to Emily's cheek as he spoke.

She wasn't used to get compliments like that; Emily could feel herself blushing furiously.

'I've felt the same. And you're handsome enough yourself.' She gave him a cheeky grin.

John started to lean towards her, and Emily felt herself moving towards him as well. Closing her eyes, she felt their lips touch. His were soft and while he wasn't being forceful, his kiss was firm. But…

They broke apart.

'God, I'm sorry, that was awful, I promise I can do better!' John was apologetic, giving an embarrassed chuckle.

'It's ok, it's probably the drink.' Emily giggled and leaned in again.

This time, she put her arms round his neck, pulling him in for a closer kiss. Their lips met, and they kissed for a second time. A few seconds later, they broke apart again.

'Are you feeling anything?' Emily asked.

'No! I don't understand, you're gorgeous and I thought I was attracted to you!' John seemed aghast.

'Maybe it's the drink? Though I feel pretty sober.'

'Oh god, I've lost it!' Groaned John.

Emily giggled. 'No you haven't, if we're both not feeling it, maybe we just aren't meant to be more than friends. You really are one of the sweetest guys I've met, and you are handsome!'

John buried his head in his hands and groaned again, before starting to laugh as well. 'Sherlock's going to have a field day with this!'

She laughed, 'Come on, finish your tea and we'll both get to our beds.'

The atmosphere was awkward for a couple of minutes, but gradually they relaxed back into each others company. In a way Emily was relieved. She had been telling the truth, John was handsome and she got on well with him. But this way, they could keep their friendship going without wondering was there anything else there.

At midnight, John said his goodbyes and went upstairs. Emily got ready for bed, she covered her face and bit her lip at the thought of what had happened. Shaking herself, she knew it would be fine, John would be a good friend. She fell into bed looking forward to her trip home tomorrow.

**Ooo so if any of you thought this was going to be a romance between Emily and John, nope! I hope it's not too disappointing. But up next is a visit back home. But will there be a surprise for Emily? Please review **


	5. Surprising Visitor

**Until now, I haven't really thought about exactly when this story was set, but I've figured out it is after the Reichenbach Fall and Sherlock has been back for a while. I had a different plan for this chapter, but was having such a hard time writing it that I took a different approach, and it seems to be working a lot better. Hope you enjoy it! Please review :)**

Emily yawned and looked at her watch; it showed her it was only 6 o'clock. She was exhausted already, though had promised a couple of friends she would head out for a drink with them.

It had been a busy day, after getting up early to catch the first train to Dorset. She had caught up with her parents before meeting her best friend Jules for coffee, which had morphed into lunch, then more coffee. When Emily and Jules started talking, it was hard to stop. She told her all about John and the kiss, to which Jules had suggested Emily introduce her to John, and also tried to explain about Sherlock. Jules seemed bewildered by him, and in the end Emily gave up trying to give a good description.

Now though, Emily decided that a quick nap would do her good before getting ready to head down to the local pub. Changing into a tank top, setting her alarm and crawling into her old bed in her parent's house, Emily promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Emily tried to clear her head as she wondered what woke her up. Her alarm wasn't belting out its high pitched tone, and looking at her phone, she still had 15 minutes of sleep left.

Then she heard a soft bump downstairs. Sighing she told herself it was her mum or dad moving about. Until she suddenly remembered they had gone out for drinks at a friend's house. Wide awake, she dived out of bed, and pulled on her tracksuit bottoms and a hoody. Looking around, she grabbed her phone and riding crop (she rode her friend's horses from time to time and at this point it was the only weapony looking item she could find).

Creeping down the stairs, her heart pounding, she glanced round the corner of the living room, but saw nothing. She made her way slowly into the kitchen, but still didn't see anything. Confused, Emily lowered the riding crop, when suddenly a shadow passed by the kitchen window towards the door.

'What the hell!' she yelped.

Stumbling backwards, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket, and started to unlock it to dial 999, when the back door into the kitchen opened.

Looking up, her fear turned to anger.

'What the bloody hell are you doing here!?' She practically screamed.

'I don't believe you'll do much damage with a riding crop, though from experience, it would cause some interesting bruising.' The tall form of Sherlock Holmes stood in front of her.

Emily stared open mouthed at him, crop still raised in the air.

'Are you actually serious, get out of my house! You absolute weirdo!'

'It is in fact your parent's house, now you've moved to London. And I also thought you wanted me to answer the question as to what the bloody hell I was doing here. Please make up your mind before giving me contradicting statements. It does get rather annoying.' Sherlock looked unmoved by her threatening gestures with the crop.

'Oh my god, I'm phoning the police.'

'Please don't bother. You haven't attempted to harm me yet.'

'I'm not bothered about harming you, I'm disturbed by the fact you have seemingly followed me from London for some unknown reason, and that I find you in MY house uninvited.'

Emily started backing away again towards the hall. She would make a damn good attempt at running from this guy.

'I really don't think you need to be concerned. After watching your reaction, I have allayed my suspicions about you. I was merely watching out for someone who considers themselves my best friend.' Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back.

Emily stopped walking backwards, and narrowed her eyes at him, crop still raised in one hand, and her mobile in the other.

'What do you mean?' She asked suspiciously.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, 'Perhaps you could lower your 'weapon', and make me a cup of tea. I'm convinced you won't try to poison it. Then I will,' pausing, it looked like it slightly pained him to say it, 'explain my actions to you.'

'You break into MY home, announcing you have suspicions about me, and then ask ME to make YOU a cup of tea. Who the actual hell are you?' She shook her head, open mouthed. 'Oh my god! Fine, I'll make tea, just…sit there and don't touch anything!'

Emily kept an eye on him, and still held onto the crop as she moved about the kitchen making tea. When it was ready she set the tea pot, cups, milk and sugar on the table.

'I'm sure you can sort yourself out from here on. You don't want me to slip something into it. Exactly why do you think I would try to poison you, and why were you concerned for John? I assume that's who you meant, though how you are his best friend I don't know.'

Sherlock took his time making his own tea, until he had stirred it, taken a sip and set it back down.

'Have you heard of Moriarty?' He asked.

'No, why would I have?'

'Because he was a slightly good, psychopathic serial killer who I got the better of. Surely you heard about him in the news?' Sherlock looked almost confused at her blank face.

At this, Emily looked slightly sheepish. 'To be honest I don't pay that much attention to the news. I hear about the major stuff when people tell me, but usually I'm too busy reading a book or watching a movie.'

'Ah, so you really didn't recognise me and John when you moved in. It appears I am wrong again with you Miss Turner.' Cocking his head to one side, he muttered under his breath, 'Intriguing'.

'What is?' Emily was getting more and more confused.

'I wrongly deduced that you were sent by the small remainder of Moriarty's men to kill myself and John. I'm not often wrong; however, I have been several times with you. It intrigues me.'

'Oh.' Emily didn't know what else to say.

'And since I have decided you are not a threat to us, I will leave you to…enjoy the rest of your time here. Make sure you don't miss the 7.36 train tomorrow night.'

With that, he stood up and marched out the kitchen door into the night. Emily was left sitting at the table open mouthed. Eventually she got up, and walked upstairs to get ready, passing the train timetable and ticket pinned to the notice board by the kitchen door…


	6. Revelations

Sherlock sat in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, staring at the fire. John had left hours ago, though as usual Sherlock hadn't even acknowledged his departure. There were more crucial thoughts hurtling round his head. The only thing that gave away his mental unrest was the ever so slight movement of his eyes from side to side.

The cause of this turmoil in his mind was the presence of a certain female residing in the flat below him. He had spent the past few hours in his mind palace attempting to piece together why he was unable to deduce Emily. Sherlock had never taken any length of time to probe his mind palace for anything other than a case above a 6.

He brought up the memory of first encountering Emily and studied it in great detail. The clothes she was wearing, how he had deduced she was a dog walker and even the slight shift in her demeanour when she looked at John. But there was something missing. How could he not see that she was from a loving family, rode horses or had in fact never had a serious boyfriend? (A fact gleaned from eavesdropping at the pub after leaving her that Saturday night.) He was incredibly disturbed at how much thought he had already given this woman so far.

Sherlock had easily deduced from John's return on a certain Friday night, that there had been an attempt at romance between him and Emily. He had also deduced that it had ended with the reassurance from both parties that a friendship was the best path to continue along.

It was noted with curiosity that his pulse had elevated since being in this section of his palace. Why? He knew why, he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

Sighing, Sherlock rose from his seated position and took up his violin. Running the bow across the strings, he picked out the notes and shaped them into an original composition.

* * *

He played for several minutes, not realising that Mrs Hudson had entered the room to leave a casserole off.

'That's beautiful dear, is it new?' She spoke softly, not wishing to break the ambience in the room.

Sherlock stopped and turned to her. 'Hmm.' He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes not quite focussing on her.

'I brought you some dinner; I know you're not on a case, so thought you might appreciate a bit of home cooking for once. You and John are always getting those takeaways in, or heading to Angelo's. You need a good nutritious meal every now and then.'

'Ah Mrs Hudson,' Sherlock suddenly seemed to see the extra person in the room, 'Where's John?'

Mrs Hudson smiled, 'He went to meet Emily for a coffee I think, it was a while ago, so I'm sure he'll be home soon.'

At that, they both heard the door downstairs open, the sound of giggling entering with the two people. John could be heard catching his breath and saying goodbye to Emily before she went into her flat as he walked up the stairs. Mrs Hudson passed John in the hall, saying hello and goodbye to him.

'Hi Sherlock.' Not expecting a reply, John sat on the sofa and picked up the paper.

Sherlock watched him for a minute before… 'John, do you have Emily on your facebook?'

John slowly lowered the paper and glared at Sherlock. 'Ok two things, one, you told me facebook was a 'stupid device for simple people to attempt their own deductions of others', and second, please tell me you don't still believe Emily was sent to murder us in our sleep? I think your recent trip to Dorset proved otherwise.'

Sherlock deduced from this that John was still a bit unhappy about his spontaneous trip down south. Waving his hand he said, 'No, I realise that was incorrect, I do however want to conduct an experiment, and for once I believe facebook may be useful. So do you have her as a friend?'

'Yes I do. Now, why?'

'Bring up her profile picture.' Sherlock walked over to John watching him closely.

Tapping on his phone's screen for a few seconds, 'There, now what?'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he watched John's face and then grabbed the phone, walking over to the mirror above the fireplace. He looked down at the phone and then up at the mirror. Repeating this several times, John could hear him muttering under his breath.

'…Dilating…elevated…must…other reason.'

'What the hell are you doing?' John all but sighed at him.

'Look at page three of your paper John.' Walking back to the sofa, Sherlock continued to observe John's face closely as he (not entirely unwillingly) turned his gaze to the correct page.

'Why are you staring at me, and will you please answer my questions!'

'Your pupils didn't expand when you were looking at the picture of Emily, however when they were staring at the topless model in the paper, they expanded rapidly. You obviously have no romantic feelings towards Emily at all, however, the same could not be said for…,' he glanced at the paper, 'Sasha, 20 from Southampton.'

'I've told you to stop deducing me. So what was the whole thing with the mirror…oh…Oh!' A look of realisation crossed John's face, 'You! Do you have feelings for Emily?'

'No! It was merely an experiment in my deductive reasoning, I don't believe in sentiment!'

Sherlock turned abruptly, throwing John's phone onto the sofa as he strode out and into his bedroom, forcefully closing his door behind him.

'That doesn't mean sentiment doesn't believe in you.' John spoke quietly before heading towards the delicious smell of casserole in the kitchen.

**This chapter comes from a different angle; I think it needed to be covered before the story could continue. It also slightly changes POV part of the way through, I hope that works ok, but I felt it made the chapter a bit more alive (?). Hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you think!**


	7. Bad Day Gone Worse

_I need a drink! Fancy joining me? Em x_

_Sounds like a plan. Bad Day? The Fox 7? J_

_Perfect! Not my best day, you can get the 1__st__ round in ;D x_

John walked back to the table where Emily sat, carrying two pints of cider. She was rubbing her eyes and looked exhausted.

'So tell me what happened. You look like you need this drink.' John said

Taking a long gulp of the cool cider, Emily sighed and leant back against the sofa.

'It was just one of those days were lots of little things keep going wrong. On their own I could have dealt with them, but everything just seemed to pile up. I slept in, and the dogs only got 45 minutes walk. The owners were fine about it, but it annoys me. Then I lost my keys, I had to ask Mrs Hudson for the spare set, which held me up even more. Though I did get them back, I have my mobile number on them, so some guy found them in the park and dropped them off to the estate agents for me.'

Seeing John's face at that fact, 'I know I shouldn't have my number on them, but at least it's not my address!' She gave a weary giggle. 'Then this really obnoxious guy called in to set up an appointment to view some houses, and he was just really creepy. Kept trying to ask me out, but when I turned him down, he got all snotty and basically told my boss I didn't have the right attitude for the job. Thankfully she didn't listen to a word he said.'

'You know Sherlock could probably find him, and we could show him where being an arse gets you?' John grinned at her.

Emily laughed, 'I'm not even going to tell you his name in case you do! That's not the end of it though; Sophia and me both got soaked by a car, walking home from school. Basically a disaster of a day.'

'Well you deserve that pint then!'

'I do indeed, now tell me about your day. It can't be worse than mine!'

'Nowhere near. Basically a normal day, went to the morgue with Sherlock to figure out how a body was found in a locked shed with no obvious cause of death. Sherlock left saying it was obviously the sister or the local newsagent. He's currently at the lab experimenting to find out which.'

Emily looked amused, 'I still can't believe he can deduce stuff within seconds. I mean he makes Sheldon in Big Bang look like a newbie!'

'I would love to see those two have a discussion. Preferably in a ball pit. Knowing Sherlock though, I wouldn't be surprised if I do find him in a ball pit someday for a case. What do you think of him? I know he surprised you in Dorset, but I think you've figured out now that's just how he is. Spose I should find it a compliment he was worried about me.'

'He may say he's your best friend, but I think you're definitely his. I've seen the way he sometimes checks that something's ok from your reaction. It's nice to see. I duno, he's a hard one to figure out. But there's something exciting there. He did worry me to begin with, but he's fascinating, and quite attractive!'

Emily blushed knowing she's said too much as John picked up on her words.

He gave a devilish smile, 'Oh, you think he's attractive then?'

'I um..,' she gave a defeated sigh with a small smile, 'I guess I just see a side of him other people don't when he's at home with you.'

In the past couple of weeks, Emily had spent more and more time upstairs with the two men, having dinner, or just watching a movie with them. At least, she watched them with John while Sherlock retreated to his mind palace. She found herself becoming more and more comfortable with the way Sherlock was. And she couldn't deny it (in her head only of course!) she had caught herself watching him. It was easy when he was in his mind palace as he didn't seem to notice what anyone was doing.

And it seemed she did find him attractive. The way he got excited when he'd figured out a clue in a case. Or when he fell asleep on the sofa and his guard came done. His usually sharp features gained a softness about them. Even the way he had rushed to Dorset to make sure she wasn't going to hurt John now seemed endearing to her. She increasingly found herself thinking about him when she wasn't doing anything. However from John's descriptions of him, there would be nothing reciprocated from Sherlock. Mentally berating herself, she took another long sip of her drink.

John's phone buzzed with a text and he picked it up.

'Sherlock's finished with his experiment. Apparently it was the sister _and_ the newsagent. They killed the brother with an ice cube? Not sure I could be bothered with the explanation.' John said as he typed a reply.

The two of them continued to chat and drink, Emily buying another round. Coming back to the table with the drinks, she noticed John looked a bit sheepish.

'What have you done?' She asked, recognising that look.

'I hope you don't mind, Sherlock kind of invited himself here when I told him where we were.'

Emily's stomach did a small back flip at the thought. Then her mind did a quick calculation of what she was wearing, and if she'd brought any makeup with her. 'Stop it!' She told herself, 'This is Sherlock; he's not going to care. And neither do you!'

'Oh, ok, I guess that's ok.' She tried to look indifferent as she sat down. Apparently it didn't fool John.

'You do like him! Look at your cheeks; they're as red as my jumper!'

Emily swore she was going to knock that grin off his face if it got any bigger. She attempted as best she could to continue the conversation without getting distracted. But every time the door opened, she couldn't help but glance towards it.

Finally the door opened, and in swept Sherlock, all long coat and scarf flapping. He gave a quick glance around before seeing Emily and John and striding over to them.

'This place is so dull. I don't see why you had to be here instead of the lab with me.' He directed his steely gaze at John. Turning to Emily, 'And you are nothing but a distraction to him, John hasn't been round nearly as much since you arrived.' Sherlock practically pouted.

John and Emily burst out laughing.

'Sherlock, just sit down. Do you want a drink?' Emily asked.

Sherlock obviously decided that huffing was going to get him nowhere with the two of them.

'A brandy if you must.'

While Emily went to get the drink, John scolded Sherlock. 'Be nice, for god's sake, you followed her to Dorset on a hunch that was wrong. I am allowed to have other friends beside you. And the pub may seem dull to you, but the lab is dull to me, when you're carting around doing your experiments.'

Sherlock, opened his mouth to say something, but John got in first.

'No, be nice, I know you have some sort of feelings for her…'

'John shut up.' Sherlock interrupted, 'I don't want to talk about it.'

For the first time since John had met him, Sherlock actually looked embarrassed.

'Look mate, it's fine, you are human, and you're allowed to have human emotions. I know you say they aren't useful, but do what you usually do, and go with your instinct!'

Sherlock didn't get a chance to respond before Emily came back with his drink.

'Here you go, enjoy.' She smiled as she passed it to Sherlock, their fingers touching lightly.

Emily jerked her hand in shock and looked up at Sherlock. His eyes met her's and she felt her stomach clench tightly as his gaze bore into her's.

'Thank you.' He said softly.

John looked on at the two of them, just short of his jaw hitting the floor. He looked at his phone, and then turned back to both his friends.

'Um, guys, I'm going to head on, got a text from Mike, think he's having some problems.'

Emily turned sharply to John, and sensed Sherlock doing the same.

'Your phone didn't vibrate.' Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John.

'The message must have come through a while ago, didn't realise. That's why I better rush off. Listen, you two stay on, have another drink, and I'll see you both later.'

He picked up his coat and walked out of the pub.

Emily turned and looked at Sherlock…and couldn't think of one thing to say. Apparently he was having the same problem. His mouth opened as if to say something, then immediately shut again. Emily was in agony, the silence was getting worse, she knew she had to say something. As she was about to mention the case he had been working on at the lab, Sherlock spoke first.

'I'm afraid I have to go as well, I just remembered an important experiment that I left in the flat. My apologies.'

With that he downed his brandy in one gulp and then practically ran out of the pub. Emily sat stunned, on her own, completely.

The girl at the table next to her laughed, 'What you do to both of them then!'

Emily smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, and took a drink of her cider. She couldn't believe what had just happened. At first she thought Sherlock was thinking the same as her when they shared that look. But obviously it just made him uncomfortable, with him rushing out like that. Tears threatened to sting her eyes as she put her coat on and slowly got up to leave.

Walking back to her flat, Emily couldn't believe how stupid she had been. Starting to get feelings for Sherlock, when he was definetly not the kind of guy that had relationships, except the rare friendship with John. She'd never had a proper relationship with a guy, at least nothing lasting more than a few weeks and it never really concerned her. Though now, she wished she'd had a bit more experience dealing with men.

Wandering past a darkened street, she was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't see the dark figure creeping up behind her. And so she had no idea what happened when she received a sharp blow to the head, knocking her unconscious.

The figure reached into his pocket pulling out his mobile and dialling.

'Got her mate, out cold, I'll bring her in now…yep…see ya then.'

He put his mobile back, and hoisted Emily up, lifting her into the car parked beside them on the street.

As he closed the door on her still form, he said 'Now then girlie, let's see what mischief we can cause with you and your friends!'

**Such a bad day for Emily! In every aspect. Thanks for the new favourites/follows :) Please review **


	8. Living Out Nightmares

'Bloody hell. SHERLOCK!'

John raced up the stairs to 221b and barged into Sherlock's room. He found Sherlock hunched over a desk with a magnifying screen. At the noise of the door banging open, he turned to glare at John.

'Do you mind, I'm trying to get some…'

'She's gone. Emily, she's been kidnapped!'

Sherlock leapt up, suddenly serious. Letting a stream of questions flow, he was already grabbing his coat and rushing out the door, followed quickly by John.

* * *

'Mrs Hudson, please do stop crying, it won't help the Inspector not get anywhere quicker! And Lestrade, I don't see why you are keeping me here.'

Sherlock was pacing like a caged animal in the DI's office. John was silent on the sofa in the corner, but Sherlock could tell from the bags under his eyes, and the lines on his forehead that he was as worried as he himself was. It had been two hours since John had found the note on 221c's doormat and there was nothing to go on. Nothing! Even he couldn't find a single pick of evidence.

According to the note, the kidnappers would contact John in 4 hours. But who knew what would be happening to her in the meantime.

Lestrade answered Sherlock, 'I can't have you storming about the streets the mood you're in. Let us find something, or wait for the call. Then we can decide on the next course of action.'

'Hmph.' Sherlock crossed his arms and dumped himself on the sofa beside John.

* * *

It was so dark, and cold and wet. The tears running down her face didn't help either. Emily couldn't remember a time in her life she had been as scared as she was now. Blindfolded and tied to what felt like a steel pipe, the cold had seeped into her bones and she couldn't stop shaking. She couldn't even tell how long she had been here.

The last thing she remembered was feeling pain through her head before blacking out. Then she had woken up here. Nobody there and every noise scaring her to death.

She had now lost count of the times she willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. When she didn't, fresh tears fell as she prayed that Sherlock or John would find her.

* * *

At 4pm, Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Donovan and some of the tech guys were gathered round John's phone in the DI's office. Sherlock had already pointed out his displeasure at Donovan's presence. But Lestrade had shot him down, saying they needed all the help they could get. John had had to physically hold Sherlock back at that point.

At 4.01pm, John's mobile rang. Suddenly there was a flurry of action from the techies, before one of them gave John the thumbs up. He pressed the answer button, and spoke, 'Hello?'

A mechanical voice came over the speaker, obviously disguised.

'Hello Dr Watson. I assume that at least Mr Holmes and the good Detective Inspector are in the room?'

'Yes. Where is she? Is she safe?'

'Ah ah ah,' The disembodied voice scolded, 'Dr Watson. I'll be the one talking here. Now, I've been watching you and Mr Holmes closely and I know what Miss Turner means to both of you. For now she is safe, however she will only remain so if my instructions are followed. I know that Mr Holmes's elder brother can be in possession of a large amount of money very quickly should the need arise. And I'm sure you'll both agree that the need has arisen…'

'If you hurt one hair on her head, be assured that you will be left much worse.' Sherlock had leapt up and practically growled at the phone.

The caller's strange distorted laugh could be heard. 'Mr Holmes, I don't think you have a leg to stand on. In any case, you have three hours to obtain five million pounds. At that time I will call again and issue more instructions.' *Click* The room was silent.

'Well? Any location?' Lestrade questioned the techies.

'Sorry, sir, he's scrambled it, all we got was it was in London.'

'Great we've got nothing.' John punched the wall, then grabbed his fist in frustration.

'John, I'm astonished you still don't observe the obvious. From the sound of his voice, even disguised, he obviously had a cleft palette as a child which has since been fixed. And from the slight background noise, I'd say he was near Tate Modern. I do believe they have an exhibition about wind chimes or some such trivial and noisy instrument. Also he says he has been watching us, and I passed a man on Baker street yesterday with said cleft palette. I thought he had been in 221, but on closer inspection couldn't see any sign of a break in.'

John perked up, 'Emily's key! She lost her key yesterday; apparently some guy found it and phoned her to give it back.'

Sherlock brightened up even more at that. 'Well then, the man we could be looking for is 6', Short blonde hair, sticky build, scar on his upper lip, green eyes with a goatee. Also lives near Battersea Dogs Home with his mother. I'd say between the ages of 31 to 33. Does that give you anything to go on Inspector?' Despite himself, Sherlock looked smug.

Everyone in the room stared at him before Lestrade spoke up.

'Right yes, no time to ask how you know all that. Donovan! Put all the details into the database, see what you can come up with. Sherlock, John, we'll head towards Tate Modern now, await Donovan's call.'

With that the three of them raced out of the office.

Donovan only shook her head at them and whispered under her breath, 'Still a bloody freak to me.'

* * *

Emily shuddered awake. Somehow she must have dozed of. Probably from exhaustion. It felt like she had been tied up for days, let alone the probable hours it really had been. Suddenly she heard the clanging of metal, and her entire body tensed. Tied up and blind she felt more helpless than she ever had.

'Alright gorgeous. How you feeling?' A strange voice assaulted her ears. It chilled her to her already frozen bones.

'I've been in touch with your friends. Hopefully they'll be very forthcoming to get you out of here. But they have a couple of hours yet. Until then, I think you and me should have a bit of fun.'

The tone of the voice made her fell sick to her stomach, but too scared to say anything, she kept silent. She was left in very little doubt as to what he meant. She could hear footsteps getting closer to her, then hands pulling at the ropes that held her in place. Although she was free from the pipe, her hands were still bound with rope. She was then lifted forcefully and half dragged across a room before being flung down on what felt like a sofa.

The fear built in her until she found a voice, 'Please! Please don't.'

The voice laughed at her. 'Go on like that love, and I'll enjoy this even more.'

His hands pulled at the ropes on her hands, and pushed them above her head. She took the opportunity to wrench them free and punched out at where she thought he stood. Making contact with what felt like his head and collar bone, he let out a shout.

'Ow, you bitch!' He punched her in the face, and the pain exploded from her nose. She cried out as she felt blood running down her face and put her hands up to it. He grabbed them back, and bound them in the rope again.

'I was gona do this nice for you, but you've changed that.' He snarled at her.

Pushing her down on the sofa, he ripped her jacket off her shoulders and pulled it up her arms as far as it would go with the rope. She heard him fumble at his belt before hearing the sound of jeans being pulled off. Tears flooded down her face, mixing with the blood. His rough hands were on her again, this time at the belt of her jeans. Fear and horror filled her and she desperately tried to imagine she was anywhere else but here.


	9. Grey Knight

Emily was frozen, couldn't think straight and all hope had left her body. The rough hands pulled her belt off. She fisted her hands, pushing her nails into her palms, trying to give her some pain to distract her mind. She could feel her nails drawing blood.

Suddenly she heard a crash of metal followed by a guttural roar from the body above her. It was followed by the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

'Get away from her.' Sherlock didn't shout, or scream, but the cold fury in his voice was evident to anyone that heard it.

The next thing Emily was listening to the sound of words she couldn't make out, shouts, groans and yelps of pain. Then a few seconds later, she felt hands at her head. She screamed.

'Shh, shh, Em it's me, it's John. Let me get this thing off you.' John tried to calm her down as he pulled away the blindfold.

Blinking in the light, she focussed her eyes on John. The concern on his face made her cry again. She looked around the damp room she had been held in. Lestrade was standing arms folded, looking out of the door, while Sherlock seemed to be beating a man senseless on the floor. Kick after kick was volleyed into his chest. The look on Sherlock's face was one of pure venom. Reaching down, he pulled the man up by his shirt, and looked him straight in his one open eye and spoke in a low, level voice.

'You should be very grateful that the Inspector is present or you might not have seen the light of day.'

He threw his head forward and head butted the man square in the face. Releasing his shirt, the man collapsed on the floor.

'He's all your's Inspector. I do believe he will need medical attention.'

Lestrade turned around and walked towards the heap on the floor. 'How awful I didn't see who hit him.' His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sherlock walked towards the sofa where John was gently releasing Emily's hands. She looked up at Sherlock, exhaustion filling her face. He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and softly began to wipe the blood from her face. She couldn't say anything, but instead, as soon as John pulled the rope away, she reached her hand to Sherlock's, held it against her cheek and looked him in the eye. There were tears of relief now falling down her face.

John stood up and walked over to where Lestrade was cuffing the beaten man, dragging him out of the room, leaving Sherlock and Emily alone.

'You came.' She whispered.

'Of course.' He didn't, couldn't say anymore.

After he finished wiping her face, he sat on the sofa and pulled her close to him. She wrapped her arms round his neck, and rested her head on his shoulder, curling her legs over his. She could see John glancing over at them as he walked back in, and gave him a small, sad smile. He sent the same one back before walking over.

'We should get you to hospital Em, I reckon your nose has been broken.' He winched as he spoke and Emily could feel Sherlock tensing under her arms.

She nodded, and still in the same position, Sherlock wrapped his arms round her back, and under her knees, lifting her as he stood. She tightened her hold round his neck and nuzzled her head against his chest closing her eyes. The next thing she fell asleep.

* * *

Opening her eyes slowly, and not recognising her surroundings, Emily started to panic. Pulling at the sheet's covering her, she started sobbing.

'Emily.'

His voiced calmed her instantly. She turned her gaze to the darkened corner of the room where Sherlock was unfolding himself from an armchair.

'You're in hospital. You've been unconscious after they gave you some anaesthesia to set your nose.' He looked uncomfortable. 'I…how are you feeling?'

He walked over and stood by the side of her bed. His hand resting on the edge of it. She looked down at it, and slid her own over to cover it. His whole body tensed for a second, before relaxing. She looked up at his face, and saw a fleeting look of worry, before his usual nonchalant one took its place.

'I'm tired. I was so scared Sherlock. I kept praying that you and John would find me. My nose is sore.' She winced, 'Where is John?'

'He went to get coffee. Well he calls it coffee, it tastes like mud.'

She gave a small giggle, glad that there was a bit of normal in the room. But she turned serious once again.

'What happened?' She whispered.

Sherlock signed and pulled his hand out from under hers. He turned and clasped his hands behind his back.

'You should never have been involved. They took you to get to us.' He turned back, and she could see his eye's blazing. 'You were in danger because of us.'

He paced about the room, obviously battling some internal dilemma. Emily let him pace, he would tell her what she needed to know when he was ready. Sighing, he pulled the chair over to the side of the bed and sat down, leaning back into it. His hands clasped in front of him.

'Do you remember in Dorset I mentioned Moriarty to you, and that he had some men remaining that were willing to carry on his business?'

She nodded and he continued.

'It seems that two of them have been watching the flat and saw you move in. They then saw that you were getting close to John, and that I..' he paused looking uncomfortable again, 'They came up with a half formed plan to kidnap you and pretend to be asking for a ransom to draw myself and John out, and as far as they have talked, to kill us. However it would seem they underestimated my deductive powers. We were already on our way to the general area they had phoned us from, and from my information, Donovan was able to find a suspect on the police database. We turned up at his house, and he talked very quickly after I…well talked to him.'

Emily suspected he had done more than talked to him after witnessing his actions with her tormentor. But at this point she was more than grateful that he had.

'We found where they were hiding you, and the rest you know. They'll be going down for a very long time. You won't have to worry about them. I'm so very sorry that you were hurt.'

He leaned forward, and Emily swore that there were tears in his eyes. But he stood up quickly.

'I should find John, he's taking too long.'

'Sherlock…' Emily spoke, her voice low.

He turned to her, and in that instant Emily realised she had truly fallen for him. Seeing what he did to that…that creature who had practically tortured her. It made her realise what he was prepared to do for her. For her! Of course John had been there, and he had been the one to release her, but she saw that Sherlock had seen red as soon as he entered that room. And when he came to comfort her, her stomach was in knots just thinking about it.

'Can you please sit with me?' She asked.

He looked at her for a long moment before accepting. He sat back in the chair and she held out her hand to him. He took it, and very gently and unsure of himself, he rubbed the backs of her knuckles. Turning her hand over, he looked at the cuts her nails had made on her palms running his thumb gently over them. Slowly, wincing, Emily sat up and moved herself over to the opposite edge of the bed, trailing her hand out of Sherlock's.

'I'm tired Sherlock, but I don't want to sleep on my own. Will you lie beside me?'

His eyes darted around the room, panicking. He stood up and made a step back.

'Emily, I can't, I'm not…'

'Please Sherlock?' There were tears in her eyes again. She wasn't pretending any of this; she was truly scared and just wanted him beside her. She felt safe with him there.

He stood stock still before letting out a breath. Taking of his long coat he draped it over the back of the chair and pulled his feet out of his shoes. Then very tentatively he sat on the bed and lowered himself down. Emily lay on her side facing away from him, and he turned so that his front was to her back. She reached out for his hand, and when he gave it to her, she wrapped his arm round her waist. Feeling his gentle breath against her neck, Emily drifted of into a dreamless sleep.

It was in this position that John found them both sleeping when he finally came back from his hunt for coffee. With a slight smile, he turned and walked back to the waiting room.

**I have one more chapter to add to this story before it's finished. I tried to stay true to what I think Sherlock would do in this situation, if he really had feelings for a woman. But please let me know what you think!**


	10. Consternation & Delight

Two weeks later, tensions were running high in 221b. After being discharged from the hospital, John had insisted that Emily stay with them, at least until she felt ready to go home. Giving up his bed for her, he had slept on a blow up mattress in Sherlock's room. Apart from the strain on his back, Sherlock's unusual sleeping patterns did not lead to a good night's sleep.

Emily decided that the day John threw milk round Sherlock was the day she needed to move back downstairs. He parents and friends had already visited in the couple of days after the incident and were pleased with how well Emily was coping. She hadn't quite told them the extent of what had happened, feeling that sparing them some of the detail was better for them and for her. She had also gone back to work in the middle of the second week. All her employers had been very understanding and told her to take as long as she needed. Emily had felt very lucky and had cried on John's shoulder at hearing that from them all.

The first couple of nights in 221b, Emily had suffered from several nightmares. John was always straight in to comfort her and get her back to sleep. But every time she was woken up by him, there was always a crushing disappointment that it wasn't Sherlock gently shaking her shoulders and telling her every thing was alright.

After that night at the hospital, when they had fallen asleep together, Sherlock had cut himself off from Emily. He barely spoke to her, and seemed colder than she had ever seen him. This was partly the reason she was moving back downstairs as well. In fact she had been pushing around the idea of finding somewhere else to live. The only things that had stopped her were the fact that she loved her flat, and also Mrs Hudson and John. She wouldn't however admit to herself what else she loved.

John had been watching the atmosphere between Emily and Sherlock with exasperation. After seeing them curled up together in the hospital, he had thought it was a turning point for Sherlock. And it was, just the wrong turn. Even for him, Sherlock seemed more distant than usual, barely talking unless it was about a case. Once Emily had moved back to her flat the black mood got worse. He started throwing experiments across the room when they weren't turning out the way he expected, and as for the horrible melodies coming from the violin, that was something else altogether. John knew he would need to talk to him.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table with his microscope when John came home from Tesco. Noticing Sherlock's tense shoulders he switched the kettle on.

'Do you want a cup of tea?'

'Hmm?'

'I said do you want some tea?'

Sherlock's answer was a dismissive wave of his hand. John sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he walked over to the plug socket and flicked the switch for the microscope.

'What the hell do you think you're doing!' Sherlock jumped up and slammed his fists on the table.

'Trying to get you to pay attention. We need to talk!' John folded his arms.

'About what? What can we possible need to discuss that is more important than this case I'm working on?'

'Emily.'

Sherlock glared at John, picked up a beaker of liquid and marched into his bedroom. John rolled his eyes again, unfolded his arms and followed him out. He managed to get to the door just before Sherlock slammed it closed in his face and walked in.

'Mate, you can't just walk away from this. I saw you in the hospital that night.'

'And I suppose you have some idiotic deductions to make.' Sherlock's back was to him as he rifled through the drawers of his desk.

'Maybe not idiotic, but I'll take a stab at them. You thought you'd lost her. And you've never felt like this before about anyone so you're pulling away. You're scared.'

'I'm never scared.' But he had stopped poking about and was standing still, with his back still to John.

'You are now. Scared of what you're feeling for her. It's perfectly acceptable, even for you Sherlock. She feels the same. I know she's never felt about anyone the way she feels about you. You're both as new to this as each other. But you have to do something before you push her too far away. You're both my friends and I want to see you both happy. So please, for all our sakes, do something good about it.'

With that John turned and walked out the door, gently closing it behind him.

Sherlock let out a sigh and his shoulders dropped. Turning, he sat on the edge of his bed and let his head drop into his hands.

* * *

_Em, when you get home, come upstairs for a bit. J_

Emily had just arrived home from minding Sophia when she saw the note on her front door. The little girl had really helped her these past few days without even knowing she was doing anything. Just hearing her giggle put a smile on Emily's face.

Confused as to why John had left a note instead of sending a text, she opened her front door and dumped her bags. Going into her bedroom, she changed out of her skinny jeans and shirt and into a pair of leggings and baggy jumper. Stretching her arms she felt more comfortable straight away. Since it was only John, she didn't feel the need to dress up. Though just in case Sherlock was there, she ran a hairbrush through her hair. Unlikely though, she thought, I haven't seen him in about a week. A couple of nights, she had cried silently in her bed thinking about how he had shut himself off from her. But she did her best to pick herself up and carry on. It was all she could do.

Closing her front door, she made her way up to 221b. As she came to the top of the stairs, she could hear the sounds of Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros playing Mondo Bongo. It was one of her favourite songs. She frowned in confusion, wondering if somehow John still had romantic feelings for her.

Walking into the living room, she stopped short, the entire place was tidied and the lights were out, with the fire blazing and candles everywhere. In the middle of the floor, on the rug, was a bunch of white roses (again her favourite) lying on it.

'John?' She called out.

No one answered, and she walked over to the rug, picking up the roses and inhaling their wonderful scent.

'I hope you like them.' A deep baritone voice spoke behind her.

Emily froze with the roses in her hands.

'They are your favourites, aren't they?' The voice had a slight hint of worry.

Emily nodded, still not wanting to turn round.

A deep sign of relief could be heard behind her, and light footsteps made their way towards her. Then a pair of hands rested softly on her shoulders. She gave a slight jump, but still didn't turn round.

'I'm…sorry.' The voice said.

'I thought John wanted to see me.' Emily's voice was trembling.

'I didn't think you would come up if you thought it was me.'

Slowly, Emily leant down and set the roses back on the rug. Then she turned round to face Sherlock. She reached up one hand and laid it on his cheek. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her hand.

'Of course I would have come.'

Emily reached for his hands and placed them on the sides of her waist. Then she placed both her hands on his cheeks. Pushing herself up slightly onto tip toes, she placed a tender kiss on his lips then pulled back to see his reaction. There was a slight look of shock, and then the small hint of a smile. When she looked into his eyes, she noticed that the black pupils were growing considerably. She smiled back at him.

'Did you do all this?' Emily looked round at the room.

Looking a little bit sheepish he said, 'I may have asked John for some tips. I did however choose the music and the flowers.'

'I love it.' Emily said simply and smiled.

She lightly twisted out of his hands and walked over to the Ipod that was playing, and restarted Mondo Bongo. Turning back she bit her lip lightly.

'Will you dance with me?'

Sherlock smiled. 'My pleasure.'

He walked over and placed his hands round her waist and rested them on the small of her back. Emily wrapped her arms round his neck and leaned her head on his chest. Then with the slow rhythmic music playing, and the fire blazing, they swayed and turned with their eyes closed, safe in each others arms.

**Well that's it folks! Thought I would leave Sherlock and Emily to enjoy their relationship in peace :) Hope you enjoyed!**


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